


Killing Stalking

by tomrddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 킬링 스토킹 | Killing Stalking (Webcomic)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Horcruxes, Kidnapping, M/M, Murder, Obsession, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25427989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomrddle/pseuds/tomrddle
Summary: Something is off about Tom Riddle, and yet, nobody but Harry seems to notice.After Hogwarts, Harry Potter is determined to figure out the mystery behind Riddle, but once he digs too deep, he finds he has inadvertently dug his own grave.— A Harry Potter work, infused with the manhwa: Killing Stalking.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31





	Killing Stalking

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously going to be a very dark work. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the themes in Killing Stalking. 
> 
> Note: I have tweaked the timeline of events in the series, so Harry is in his fourth year when the Chamber of Secrets fiasco is occurring.

A scream rang out into the otherwise eerily silent night, jarring Harry out of his aimless running. He turned a corner, searching for the source of the voice. 

Viktor Krum stood in the middle of the pathway he had almost run into, wand drawn. Harry pressed himself deep into the hedges, heart hammering in his chest. He held his breath as Krum turned his way, but his frame released an involuntary shudder that had him internally cursing.

He couldn’t stop violently shivering ever since he had encountered a rather aggressive Dementor-boggart minutes beforehand. Harry _swore_ he was seconds away from receiving the Kiss. Even if it was just a boggart, he was most definitely not interested in snogging one.

A jolt of movement, and then a wand pointed mere centimetres from Harry’s face, tip alight and blinding. Harry stumbled back and squeezed his eyes shut to escape the blinding radiance, all the while scrambling for his own wand. Just as his fingers grabbed purchase of the familiar holly wood, the abrasive light vanished. Krum gave him a long, blank stare, eyes glazed a milky white.

_What happened to him?_

The wand fell from its offensive position and Krum brushed past Harry, seeming uninterested in him. When the teen finally disappeared around the corner, Harry bolted towards his destination. He made his way down a long earthy hallway before spotting Fleur Delacour, unconscious on the ground, trapped by hedge roots. Had Krum been the attacker? 

Harry watched, horrifically transfixed, as the roots pulled her lax body into the underbelly of the wall.

“Fleur!” He dropped to his knees in an attempt to grab her before she disappeared completely, afraid the use of his wand would harm her. She did not budge, even as he tugged with all his strength; the roots were particularly vicious once they had prey in their grip. 

Fleur vanished into the dense shrubbery in seconds.

“Periculum!” Red sparks flew from Harry’s wand, soaring high into the air before exploding in a shower of twinkling lights. He prayed that somebody spotted his signal of dismay before continuing further into the maze. A strong force of wind whistled through the leaves around him and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself to trap his body heat. It picked up; a steady blow gradually becoming more intense each second, leaving Harry bone-chilled.

Harry sped up his pace, turning back to look behind him. The walls smacked together with the force of the approaching wind, causing the way he had just passed through to become blocked. Alarm bells rang in the boy’s mind. _This is definitely not normal wind!_

Harry ran. The hedges on either side of him became narrower with each passing second, causing him to stumble. Aggressive air assaulted his ears and leaves slapped against his face and body, leaving him breathless. He forced his legs keep their pace, even as he felt the walls begin to clip at his feet behind him. 

_No, no! Gotta keep moving!_ Harry pushed himself faster, lungs burning painfully. His face felt rubbed raw with the assault it had taken from the hedges.

A great force pushed him and he fell to the ground. Jolting pain rippled up his right leg and his glasses pressed sharp into his face. Harry groaned into the soft earth, gingerly turning himself onto his back. The wind had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

A buzzing noise flew past Harry’s ear and he flinched. _Why did they feel the need to put us in such a creepy maze?_ _A bit of sunshine would be nice._ He stood up shakily and looked around, until something emanating a blue haze of light in the distance caught his eye.

_The cup!_

Harry took a few steps towards the tantalizing light, favouring his uninjured left leg, before a figure dashed into Harry’s line of sight from around a fork in the maze. The green colouring of their jumper sent a jolt of recognition into his mind, and Harry’s lips pressed into a thin line.

_Tom Riddle._

He hadn’t seen the elusive older boy the entire time he’d been in the maze. To be honest, Harry had forgotten about him, having little room left for rationality when panic clouded his senses. Riddle was the original Hogwarts champion, Harry being an anomaly and hastily pushed into the position of second Hogwarts champion. 

Krum’s voice cut through Harry’s musing. “Crucio!” A red light soared past Harry, heading straight for Riddle. Harry had no time to warn him, horror clutching his throat closed. 

“Flipendo!” Riddle roared after having easily dodged the curse, and then Krum was flying backwards. He hit the hedge wall with terrifying force, head snapping back, before falling to the ground face down and motionless.

Riddle approached Krum in five long strides, shoulders stiff. He stared down at his attacker for a moment, before pointing his wand and muttering something under his breath. Krum’s wand flew obediently into Riddle’s hand. He pocketed it, then began walking towards the cup.

Harry swallowed a couple of times, mouth having gone dry. Riddle defeated Krum in less than five seconds. Not only that, but he was not injured at all during the duel. Had he noticed Harry, or did he go undetected by the Slytherin? The boy wished he could camouflage into the ground at that very moment, not wanting to risk the danger of being spotted, especially by _him_.

_Then again, I’m_ so _close. If I can somehow beat him to the cup, I’ll win the tournament!_ Harry pictured himself holding the cup high above his head, grinning from ear to ear, the crowd roaring for him. He’d have everybody’s respect. He doubted that people would mock the Triwizard champion; he wouldn’t have to deal with being called the Heir of Slytherin any longer.

A flash of movement in the hedges pulled Harry out of his daydreaming, and he squinted to discern what exactly had caught his attention. Something huge was scuttling towards Riddle, hidden in the hedge wall, and the Slytherin seemed to be unaware of its presence. He continued on his purposeful walk towards the cup, completely engrossed by its hypnotic light.

Harry unstuck his tongue from the dry roof of his mouth, raised his wand, and ran, ignoring the sharp pain shooting up his injured leg. “Riddle! On your left!”

The thing in the wall jumped. Riddle managed to spot it and roll out of the way, hitting the ground hard.

As the Acromantula rose to its full glory, stretching spindly black legs and bearing its acid-dripping pincers, Harry felt the urge to point his own wand at his head and obliviate himself. Gritting his teeth, he dashed towards Riddle. The older boy stood and brandished his wand towards the ginormous spider, a furrow appearing in his brow.

“Stupefy!” Harry bellowed. The spell did nothing but agitate the spider, now turning to Harry instead with its pincers poised. He felt his heart stutter as it fixated its many eyes on his small form. Then, with a horrifying clicking noise, it bolted after him.

“Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!” Harry was utterly powerless against the Acromantula, who shook off his spells like rain. Harry caught one glimpse of Riddle before long black legs snatched him into the air. The boy simply stood there with a blank expression, wand lowered. 

Harry’s heart lept into his throat. Would Riddle seriously leave him here to die? 

With that thought in mind, a flood of adrenaline washed over him and Harry began furiously kicking at the spider, squirming and attempting to pull his arms free. His already injured right leg connected with the Acromantula’s razor-sharp pincers and Harry howled in pain.

A repetitive, haunting sound assaulted his ears. It was the spider’s pincers, clicking together in a rather excited manner as it hauled him closer. The spider had all eight eyes trained on him. He could see the horrific ridges of its pincers from this close, covered in a thick, gooey substance. Harry didn’t think he had ever seen anything so ugly before. It was certainly far worse than Uncle Vernon’s purple face, or even Lord Voldemort on the back of Quirrell’s head.

_I won’t be laughing at Ron’s fear of spiders anymore,_ he thought with a surge of hysteria. He forced himself to instead train his focus onto Riddle’s form on the ground, for anything was better than looking at the Acromantula. He appeared small from the view Harry had as he hung suspended in the air; a far cry from the tall, confident boy he often saw striding through the halls of Hogwarts.

_I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!_ he repeated the manic mantra, eyes boring holes into the Slytherin. Then, the spider’s hideous, acidic breath fanned his face, and Harry screwed his eyes shut. 

“Arania Exumai!” Riddle’s voice cut into the air like a knife, and the Acromantula’s front legs were ripped away from his body. Harry found himself free-falling, and opened his eyes in a panic as the ground rapidly approached. It reminded him of his many accidents while playing Quidditch.

“Arresto Momentum!” 

Gravity slowed until Harry was near the ground. He fell in a heap, shaking with the after-effects of adrenaline. The Acromantula had been blown away, but he did not recognize the spell Riddle had used on it. 

“Thanks,” Harry stuttered. He found his wand laying in the dirt and grabbed it hastily, mental images of the Acromantula’s pincers and eyes haunting his mind. A pale hand flew in front of his face and Harry flinched away instinctively, before reddening with embarrassment and looking up. Riddle’s eyes were blown wide with an unnameable expression, but the intensity of it made Harry’s skin crawl. He grabbed the offered hand and the Slytherin pulled him up easily. 

“Krum was under the Imperius Curse,” Riddle explained in a distant tone, eyes now fixed on the Triwizard cup. Harry wanted to laugh at the bitter irony of it all; this was the first time Riddle had ever spoken to him face-to-face. He let go of Harry, and the boy’s legs began to violently shake with the effort of standing. 

“What d’you reckon we do now?” Harry asked, knowing he would be able to read between the lines. Riddle met his eyes once more, determination flaring in them. Harry gripped his wand tight, the wood pressing painfully into the soft skin of his hand.

“Take the cup with me.” 

“Sorry, what?” Harry’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. He’d expected Riddle to challenge him to a duel, or perhaps hex him on the spot. The possibility that he would ally with him didn’t even occur in his panicked thoughts.

“If we take the cup at the same time, it will be a Hogwarts victory no matter how you look at it,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child. Harry fought the urge to scowl and instead settled for a stiff nod of agreement. 

Riddle immediately set off for the cup, but as Harry attempted to follow, his right leg gave out and he fell to the ground with a yelp. He must’ve really gotten it bad during the fight with the Acromantula, for his leg had gone completely numb. Harry felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment as he looked up.

Riddle once again had his hand held out for him, jaw tensing in what Harry assumed was irritation. He grabbed it quickly, afraid that it would be taken away if he idled too long. 

“I’m sorry, I hurt my leg earlier in the windstorm, a-and then the thing with the Acromantula–” his breath caught in his throat and his rambling cut off with a squeak; Riddle had wrapped his arm securely around his waist, and Harry could feel his breath fanning his right temple. 

“Put your arm around me, Harry.” His voice had dropped to a low murmur now that he was in such close proximity. A shiver flew up Harry’s spine in response, and he couldn’t stop the tremble that shook his entire being. The hand around his waist tightened and he jerked into action, slinking his arm as best he could around Riddle’s broad shoulders. It didn’t help that the boy was much taller than him. A heavy puff of air hit his head, and Harry dared to look up.

“It would be more efficient to put your arm around my waist as well.” Riddle’s eyes bore searing holes into him, making Harry feel like a scrutinized science project. He blushed a furious red and snapped his head back down with a force bordering on painful.

_Fuck you, Riddle._ He dropped his arm from the boy’s shoulders and when he found his waist, he held on as gentle as he could, swallowing hard. “I’m ready,” he croaked.

The Slytherin led the way, and Harry gripped his waist firmer as his leg spasmed uncontrollably. It took a while to reach their destination, with Harry hobbling and occasionally stopping to catch himself from falling.

The cup was beautiful, now that Harry could see it up close. A gust of wind blew past the pair, ruffling Harry’s tattered and dirty clothes. He spared a surreptitious glance towards Riddle’s outfit, mind boggled at its pristine state, save for a few dirt stains. It unsettled him to think of how well Riddle must have done in the maze.

“Together, on three.” 

Harry nodded and steeled himself. This was it. He and Riddle were going to be the Triwizard champions. How would the crowd react? How would Dumbledore react? Harry almost laughed out loud as he thought of the absurdity of the situation. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin, teaming up. Even better, Potter and Riddle. There couldn’t be a stranger duo.

“One...”

Harry tried to remember when he had first encountered Riddle. He was in second year when he had discovered his diary in the girls’ bathroom on the second floor, led by the strange voices in the walls expressing the urge to kill. Harry had never heard of Tom Riddle before, but he took it because it was clear that the student had discarded it, and of course, he was obscenely curious.

However, when Harry opened the water-logged journal, the pages were blank. It was through a matter of chance that he discovered the diary was charmed: a communication device between two people. He could talk to Riddle by writing in the dairy’s pages, and Riddle could write back. He found out that he was a Slytherin and in his sixth year, but when he questioned the older boy if he had any knowledge on the Chamber of Secrets, he knew nothing of it. Harry attempted to arrange meet-ups once their friendship grew, but Tom would always be too busy, or have something planned that day. Harry figured he was shy, and decided that he would wait for Tom to meet him of his own accord, however long he needed. Harry understood the desire to be unseen.

“Two...”

But then Ginny went missing the same day as Tom’s diary, and everyone seemed to believe that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin. Harry needed Riddle – his closest confidant – more than ever, but he was gone. He concluded that somebody must have stolen his diary, and his suspicions of who it was grew tenfold as Hogwarts closed prematurely.

A missing student, petrified victims, and blood-written messages all over the walls.

_Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever._

Ginny was never found. The diary was never found. Harry did not tell anybody of Tom Riddle, for a claw of guilt had grasped upon his heart and ceased to let go. 

Then, magically, the school reopened and Harry was sent for his third year at Hogwarts. He heard _his_ name spoken for the first time by someone other than himself as he passed by a group of Slytherins on his first week back. Harry’s blood ran cold. 

A tall, handsome boy came forth, holding himself with such enchanting grace Harry was sure he would have spotted him in the halls before. He hadn’t. When Tom’s eyes met his, Harry froze, paralyzed with fear.

Then, he shook with anger. Why was Tom suddenly the talk of the school? He was nowhere to be seen his entire second year. He expressed that Harry was his closest friend, and yet never wanted to meet him. Harry even ignored his own friends to spend more time with Tom, isolating himself from everybody.

And there was an ever-present thought nagging in the back of his mind: Was Tom involved in Ginny’s murder?

Why would Tom ignore him for long stretches of time before suddenly writing back, avoiding Harry’s questions of where he had been? Why did the diary disappear the same time Ginny did?

Harry attempted to reach Tom alone and confront him about the Chamber of Secrets, certain he was somehow a piece of the puzzle, but he always managed to slither away and evade him.

_Who exactly is Tom Riddle?_

“Three!”

The two clasped their hands around the cup’s handles, and a violent tug wrenched Harry from the navel. His breath squeezed out of his lungs as the world around him spun and warped, inducing a wave of nausea. He felt like his body was being shoved through a tiny, never-ending pipe.

Harry shut his eyes. 


End file.
